


The Way You Look Tonight

by Sherlocked



Series: The Mulroys Owns My Soul [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, welp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked/pseuds/Sherlocked
Summary: It's the one where they pretend to be each other's date, but they're secretly already dating.
Relationships: Samael East/Randall Brute
Series: The Mulroys Owns My Soul [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802716





	1. Chapter 1

The Fold ready room was supposed to be off limits to any non-Fold UNIT personnel, even members of the Board, so Sam was slightly surprised that none of them commented when she started letting herself in, given she was merely the head of Alpha 1. It probably had everything to do with the fact that Randall didn’t comment, and they followed their Lead with impressive amounts of loyalty.

It was the actual cutest.

It was a mostly normal day, Sam hiding in the Fold lounge because no one could stalk her for paperwork there, when Randall walked in, fidgeting with an envelope as he settled into the chair next to hers. A quick glance around the room confirmed his ducklings were all attempting to “subtly” glance at him, their only saving grace that he didn’t do the whole _social cues_ thing. Sam’s eyes met Garren’s, her brother raising an eyebrow at her before hiding behind his newspaper, and she rolled her eyes before nudging her fiance with her foot, causing Randall to jump.

“Hey, you alive?”

“Wh- sorry, yeah, no, I’m fine-”

“If I’m not allowed to say it,” Sam cut him off, unable to control the smirk as she pointed at him, accusatory, “Then you’re not, either.” She watched,victorious, as he pushed his tongue along the inside of his cheek, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“I got invited to my ex’s wedding.” Sam’s eyebrow went up as the rest of the room Totally Didn’t Listen In.

“Okay. And why does that have you all anxious?”

“Um. Well. We didn’t break up on the best of terms? But her mom and grandmother liked me a lot, and called to make sure I’d gotten it and I don’t- I felt bad. Turning them down.” He looked like _such_ a kicked puppy, and Sam had to fight not to melt at that, instead huffing out a laugh.

“Only you, Brute. You need backup?” He perked up _immediately_.

“Yes? Please? I don’t want to go alone, and I don’t want to subject my girlfriend to...awkwardness.” She snorted out a laugh, and he grinned back, looking more relaxed by the moment, both ignoring the incredibly loud way Garren was rolling his eyes at them. She held out a hand, and Randall blinked at her.

“Invitation, please, I need to figure out if I’m going as your girl friend or as your girlfriend.” He blinked, glanced at the rest of the room like he just noticed them Totally Not Paying Attention, and went pink as he handed it over.

“Gabrielle Dulacey and-” She squinted at the ornate invitation. “Jesus, is the groom even invited to this thing?” Fowler and Sampson leaned in over Sam’s shoulders, giving up all pretense of not listening in, and she handed the piece of paper up to the other women as she opened up a new window on her computer.

“He gets a sympathy invite, it’s _her day_ , of course.” Fowler sniffed her distaste, and then actually sniffed the thick piece of paper. “There’s perfume on this.”

“Is it the scent of moonlight, jasmine, and tuberose?”

“If moonlight smells slightly stale, then yes, why?”

“Because it’s her favorite perfume.” Sam tilted the screen back a bit and pointed at a bottle that showed up in half of the pictures of the shown Instagram page. “You didn’t say she was a model, Brute.”

“I didn’t know if she still was, I didn’t want to assume.” 

“Not all of us just hook models like it’s easy, Brute.” Brennerman huffed, curling farther into his seat. “Some of us didn’t just _happen_ to win the genetic lottery.”

“It’s not really something I take into account when I start talking to someone, man. Anyway-” Sam winced, hissing at the screen of her laptop, and Randall’s head snapped over. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Sam was really hoping she wasn’t going to have to be the one to have this conversation with him, but Fowler had recoiled from the laptop and Sampson had leaned closer, both reading the screen in abject horror, and she sighed.

“Randall, question; did you, by any chance, break up with her?”

“I’m, uh. No? I had just come home from a job with a gunshot wound and she wanted me to go to some red carpet event with her the second I got back, and I told her I wouldn’t be able to. I got home and she was waiting for me at my apartment, and she said she was there to wait for me to get ready so we could go, and I told her I wasn’t going, again, and she got angry with me and went on this rant about how we never did anything she wanted to do and how she didn’t want to hear from me again until I was ready to apologize, but until then she was going to consider herself single, and I just. Didn’t ever call her back.” Sam winced again, and the two women behind her hissed sympathetically. “Wait, why, what’s wrong?”

“Boss, I hate to break it to you,” Fowler fidgeted with the invitation, “But I think that as far as she’s concerned, you broke up with her, cause she’s a _very special_ brand of crazy.”

“Now, hold on-”

“Randall, I appreciate that you’re going to try to defend her, I really do,” Sam turned her laptop around, handing it to him, “But she has a finsta where her profile picture is the two of you, which is fairly obvious even if she did cut off the tops of your heads so you’re both less recognizable, and her last three posts are _also_ about how you’re the one who got away and how she wishes she was marrying you instead, without names of course.”

“What in the fresh hell,” Sam looked over as Garren finally gave up on trying to read his newspaper, “is a _finsta_.”

“Secret second Instagram account where you post things you’d get in trouble for or would at least be annoying on your main account. Most people have fan accounts or talk shit about classmates and coworkers. Ms Dulacey seems to use hers to talk about how much her life sucks and how it’s everyone’s fault but her own.”

“Charming.”

“Isn’t it _just_.” She turned as Randall handed her laptop back to her, pushing his hair back out of his face with a sigh. “Sorry bout it.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“You know you can just... _not go_ , right?”

“I know, I just-” He sighed. “I told her grandma I would come, and I’d feel guilty if I just dropped out.” He turned his puppy dog eyes back onto her, and Sam fought the urge to coo. “She said she’d give me the family shortbread recipe.”

Damn this man. Damn this man and his adorable brown eyes and his fucking _morals_.

“So I’ll be going as your girlfriend, then.” She opened a new tab, ignoring the raised eyebrow she could _feel_ Garren pointing at her.

“Why his girlfriend?”

“Cause,” Sampson inspected her spoon before sticking it into her chocolate pudding. “If she goes as a girl friend, the crazy will be more likely to decide that she’s competition whose also trying to win Brute over, and will therefore be more likely to try something cringy.”

“But if she goes as his partner,” Fowler leaned against the back of Sam’s chair as she inspected the calligraphy on the invite, “The crazy can’t twist it into some kind of fairy tale bullshit, and it will be much harder for Ms Dulacey to frame it so she’s the good guy, which seems to be _very_ important to her.” 

“Is this some inherent girl logic?” Sam glanced up to see Garren looking between the three women, baffled, and huffed out a laugh. “Is this something that happens when you become a girl, you get a textbook on all the intricate social nuances that the rest of us don’t get?”

“Must be,” Hendricks mused from their spot on the aerial silks in the corner of the room, swinging gently from the rafters. “I _definitely_ didn’t get one.”

“That’s classified information, Garebear.” She tilted her screen up again, looking at Fowler and Sampson. “This dress with those heels, or that dress with these heels?”

“Ooooh, you can wear _actual_ heels with him, can’t you? What about those heels with that dress?”

“You think?”

“Definitely,” Sampson nodded authoritatively over a spoonful of pudding. “if you’re going to be wearing red bottoms to a model’s wedding and looking better than the bride, you need to go all the way without making it look like your trying, y’know?” She returned the spoon to the cup and flipped her braid over her shoulder. “Oh, this old thing? I just had it lying around.”

“You make a good Valley Girl, Teresa.”

“Anything for you, East.” The taller woman winked down and Sam giggled, turning back to Randall’s vaguely amused expression.

“I know I asked for backup, East, but I don’t want an actual disruption.”

“Don’t be silly, Brute, I’m going to be on my best behavior, that’s the _point._ You have a suit, right? What color ties- you know what. I’m cashing in that dinner you owe me, I’m inspecting your closet tonight.”

“Oh, are you?”

“You’d be driving me home anyway, just consider it saving you a couple hours of commute in exchange for losing access to your couch for the night, I’m sure you’ll live.”

Randall sighed in mock defeat as Garren opened his paper again, looking for all the world like the old man he spiritually was.

“I’ve found just agreeing with her works better than trying to fight it. She can be very persuasive if she wants to be.”

“Love you too, Gare.”

-

The drive back to Randall’s- _their_ apartment, he could turn off work mode- was quiet and calm that night, like it normally was, and he could tell the anxiety was all on him as he drove, occasionally glancing over at Sam.

He followed her up into the apartment and moved into the kitchen to get started on dinner, putting a pot of water on the stove as she attached herself to his side. He turned towards her, gathering her up in his arms and meeting her in a kiss, letting himself melt into it.

“Hi.”

“Hey, hot stuff. How you doin?” 

“You’re here, so, pretty great.” Sam rolled her eyes over a blush, and a small, vicious corner of his brain preened over the face that _Sampson_ never made her blush like that.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, puppy, and you know it.”

“I know.” He sighed. “I’m- it’s stupid.”

“Hey, no.” She squeezed around his stomach, reaching up to tilt his head back down, smiling slightly as he leaned into her hand. “It’s not stupid. Your body is reacting like that for a reason.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” 

“Maybe. 

“No, definitely.”

“Well, we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” He huffed out a sigh, feeling his own cheeks heat up as he had to look away.

“We’re going to a wedding together. As a couple.” There was a long pause, and he looked back to see Sam trying hard not to laugh, and felt his cheeks heat up more. “See, I _told_ you it was stupid.”

“No, baby, that’s _adorable_ , that’s what that is.” She grinned. “I think it’s really cute that you still get excited about stuff like that, what, 7 years in?”

“Yeah, but like- our coworkers know. So we can, like. Be seen doing coupley shit. And take pictures and stuff.” Her smile widened, and he could feel his grow in response as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Mmmm. This is very true. We practically _have_ to take a lot of disgustingly sweet pictures together.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her closer, nuzzling into the side of her face as she giggled.

“I’ll have to find some way to soldier on.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was completely unsurprised by Randall’s curiosity at her part of the planning, given she gave him no details. He’d RSVP’d for the two of them, reserved a gorgeous room at the resort (because of _course_ it was) and handled transportation, submitting them to her for approval. 

Randall, at least, took her not telling him for the surprise prompt it was and let it lie. Because he _trusted_ her or some such sappy bullshit that _did not_ make her heart flutter in a thoroughly unhealthy way. His little Foldlings, on the other hand, didn’t take it nearly as gracefully, badgering her in repeated failed interrogation attempts that she flat out ignored.

“You do realize,” Garren fluffed his newspaper, relaxing in the Fold lounge while he waited for his _I’m Retired, Leave Me Alone_ lunch with Margot, “That the more you ask, the more immovable she’ll become, right? Sam is powered by Monster and spite, she can and will outlast you.”

“Awe, Garebear, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.” 

“Lies and slander.”

“But _why_ won’t you tell us?” Fuller pouted, and Sam laughed, leaning forward to boop the large man. 

“Because what’s the fun of eloping with your boss if I spoil the surprise?”

“Wait, we’re eloping?” Randall raised an eyebrow at her over his coffee, and Sam smirked at the way his cheeks had gone slightly pink. “I feel like my girlfriend won’t approve.”

“She’s Canadian, I can take her. C’mon, baby, don’t you wanna get married at your ex’s wedding in Bora Bora?”

“I- hmmm.” He sipped his coffee, looking away from her as his cheeks got pinker. “The bungalow is really nice for a honeymoon. It’s in the middle of a lagoon and has a jacuzzi tub.” 

“Oh, _baby_ , talk dirty to me.” He glanced back and his cheeks went darker when he made eye contact, getting up quickly and retreating to the coffee machine as she cackled.

“Boss, why doesn’t it bother you that she isn’t telling you what she’s planning?”

“Because I haven’t told her what _I’m_ planning, Fuller. Turnabout is fair play.” Randall looked smug when he saw her expression, and Sam was aware that her jaw had dropped at some point.

“You bastard, being a tricksey asshole is _my_ job.”

“If you’re allowed to have surprises, so am I. The point is to be a realistic couple, right? If we’re going to be there for a week, we might as well have things to do.” He huffed out a laugh when she pouted, though she was soon distracted by Garren elbowing her in the ribs.

“Hey, let the nice man have his fun. You’re already hijacking his vacation, let him treat you in the manner you wish to become accustomed.”

“ _Thank_ you, Mulroy.”

“I always assumed my sister was going to end up with a sucrose parental of some kind, I can at least tolerate you.”

“Oooh, careful, Gare, that was almost an admission of undying love from you. Does that mean I get Cece when you run away with Brute? Pleasepleaseplease?”

“Hands off my wife, East.”

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend, Gare.”

“Do me and Mrs Mulroy get a say in-”

“ _No_.” Sam saw Randall hide his answering smile at the twin’s immediate response in his coffee and turned back to Garren, falling into familiar bickering.

She totally didn’t feel bad because he was finally getting the relationship recognition he’d wanted for their entire relationship and everyone thought it was a joke.

Nope. Not at all.

Fuck.

-

Randall Was Not Freaking Out. He wasn’t. At all.

2 months later, their vacation had rolled around, and at the last minute Alpha 1 was pulled on a job. Sam kept him updated with her ETA, and all that was really changing was that she’d be meeting him there instead of taking the plane with him, which only left him a couple of hours without protection, but.

But.

But he’d made eye contact Gabrielle.

There were many things that his relationship with Sam taught Randall Brute, both good and bad, and he wouldn’t trade any of it for anything. Being with her made him feel like he was worth something, if she cared about him so much. That he had to strive to better himself so he could stay worthy of her seemingly unending affections. And yes, he knew that she’d yell at him if she knew he thought like that, all the while blushing up a storm, but it was _true_.

The one and only thing he could have done _without_ learning about, however, was his effect on women.

Sam said it as the Captain America Effect. As she explained it, the combination of being large with muscles while also being a vaguely intelligent and generally decent human being meant that women’s brains would occasionally take a direct detour into their pants and, for lack of a better word, obsess. 

(It hadn’t been the word Sam had used. Sam had used “simp”, with a look of such intense disgust Randall couldn’t help but laugh. He wasn’t sure what it meant, though, and therefore refrained from using it himself.)

Gabi had every single marker for the Effect, her eyes going wide as she very obviously zoned out the man who was presumably the groom to be and someone with a binder he could only assume was an event planner as she focused on him, and he cursed the impulse that’d suggested he should go for a walk to familiarize himself with the resort. Instinct kicking in, he half smiled and waved, and she lit up, starting to move towards him.

“Puppy!”

Sam looked tired, her ~~_his_ ~~ hoodie tied around her waist with her duffle slung over her shoulders, but her smile was blinding as she jogged towards him, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up in response.

He met her halfway, scooping her up and spinning her around to a chorus of her giggles, and his unease drained out of him almost as fast as it appeared. She kissed him, kicking her feet up behind her, and leaned back with a grin.

“I missed you, too.” 

“You have _no_ idea.” He buried his face into her neck as he put her down, squeezing her tight, and melted into her as she immediately started rubbing his back, her fingers carding into his hair reassuringly.

“Randall?”

“She saw me.” It was a mumble, but he was confident she heard him when Sam squeezed him closer. “4 oclock. Grey dress.”

“Oh, I see her. She looks kinda stunned.”

“She _just_ saw me.”

“ _Well_ , then. I got here just in time, didn’t I.”

“Of course you did.” He leaned back, nuzzling into the side of her face before making eye contact, smiling down at her. “You’re my guardian angel.”

She went pink _immediately_ , and flustered _really_ was an adorable look on her.

“It’s not fair of you to say cute shit like that in public when I can’t pin you against a nearest surface and make you forget how to speak.” He bit his lip and leaned in, nuzzling against her ear as her breathing picked up.

“I think that’s our cue to head back to the room, hmm?” He straightened, slinging her bag over his shoulder and held out a hand for hers, well aware how goofy his grin of triumph must look as she went pinker.

Everything was going to be _amazing_ , as long as he had his kitten. She’d keep him safe.

-

Sam was _very_ good at her job. She had to be, to get where she was. It was one of the very few things she’d credit UNIT for, though not for the reasons anyone who’d ever taught her would think.

It was because being very, _very_ good at her job was the only reason that, in the first two days at the resort before the wedding, Randall never came into contact with the bride in question, though it was not for the lack of trying for the bitch in question. And _fuck_ , was she trying. 

Sam felt she deserved to give herself that much credit, because it at least made up for the fact that the person who finally cornered them after lunch, the day before the wedding, was the grandma that was holding Randall hostage with her shortbread recipe.

She was _tiny_ , smiling up at Randall as they exchanged greetings with a indulgent expression Sam recognized, the one that was willing to watch him do pretty much anything he liked because he was cute when he was excited. 

The bitch’s tiny grandma could stay.

“Aileen, this is Samantha.”

“So this is the new girlfriend. It’s lovely to meet you, Samantha.” She held out a hand to shake, and Sam took it. “ _Even if you’re not good enough for him, either._ ” Sam blinked, and Aileen smiled reassuringly. “An old Gaelic greeting.”

“Really? My gramma used to say _nice try, bitch. He would be very disappointed if he knew._ Sound familiar?” Aileen’s eyebrows went up, impressed, and Sam grinned back, squeezing Randall’s hand as he practically bounced with happiness that they were getting along. 

“And oldie, but a goodie. Your grandmother taught you well.”

“Why, thank you. I hear you have a shortbread recipe for this one? He’s been _very_ excited about it.”

“And not you?”

“He’s the baker in this relationship. I’m excited that he’s excited, of course, but I am aware and resigned to the fact that I am going to be eating an ungodly amount of shortbread while he works to perfect it.” She grinned up at Randall as he blushed. 

“You don’t _have_ to eat it.”

“Yes, I do, otherwise you won’t have a reliable baseline. Your only other real alternative is Mason, and he doesn’t eat, he inhales.” Sam sighed dramatically. “Oh, well, I’ll just have to resign myself to watching an attractive and possibly even shirtless man bake for me. Somehow, I’ll soldier on.”

“Your life is so hard.” Aileen’s eyebrow was up, but her tone was amused, and Sam leaned in to Randall’s side as she smiled. 

“It’s truly a trial. I hear I’m being considered for canonization.”

“Well, then, Ms Samantha, might I ask that you go and consider what you’d be the patron of while I give your young man the recipe?” 

“That okay with you, babe?” Sam nudged against Randall’s arm, and he nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Yep. Wait for me outside?”

“Not a problem.”

“Do you not trust me alone with your young man, young miss? I promise my young and flighty days are well behind me.”

“No, ma’am, but it isn’t about what I think, it’s about what he’s comfortable with. I care about his feelings and dumb shit like that.” Sam leaned in and kissed Randall’s cheek. “Love you, puppy. See you in a bit. Ma’am.”

-

Randall didn’t even pretend not to watch Sam go with a besotted look on his face, and looked back to Aileen’s amused expression with a blush.

“Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, young man, you seem quite taken with her.” His grin was huge and doofy and it felt good not to have to hide it.

“You know, I really am.” He rubbed the back of his neck, strangely bashful. “She was my high school crush, but we didn’t start talking until a few years ago.”

“Is she everything you ever wanted, then?”

“No. She’s better.” He huffed out a laugh. “And if you had told me that then, I wouldn’t have believed you. But it’s true.” 

When he looked to Aileen, her expression was strangely soft and meditative. 

“You love her.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His answer was near immediate, and she looked kinda surprised, but...there wasn’t anything to think about. Thinking about it, it had become one of Randall’s constants at some point, and he never thought to question it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure it hadn’t happened sometime before Serbia. Grass was green, the sky is blue, and he loved Samael in a way he couldn’t quite explain. 

“Hmmm. Alright, then, let’s get you this recipe so you can get back to your girl.”

15 minutes later, Randall found Sam waiting outside the restaurant for him, and it was honestly reassuring the way she gave him a quick once over to make sure he was okay before leaning up to kiss him.

“Recipe achieved?”

“Yep. The shortbreadening shall commence when we get back.”

“Oh, baby. You almost make a girl want to make butter.” There was a pause before she snorted out a laugh, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Gross. You’re gross.”

“Yeah, but you’re stuck with me now. No escape for you.”

Randall grinned, squeezing her close as they made their way back to the bungalow.

“Perfect.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So, how’s it going, boss?” Randall leaned back on the couch as he smiled down at...what did Sam call them? His foldlings. He glanced up from the laptop out onto the terrace and grinned.

She’d had a whole 15 minute rant about how there was no fucking point for a salt water pool right above the literal ocean, and now she was currently lounging in it  _ extremely _ unclothed as she watched the sunset.

“It’s good, East’s been watching my 6 fairly competently. It’s almost as if it’s her job or something.”

“She got any good bathing suits, boss?” Brennerman wiggled his eyebrows, and Randall was saved having to reprimand him by Hendricks elbowing him in the dick, pushing him out of the chair to be replaced by Fuller.

“She show you what y’all are wearing tomorrow yet, boss?”

“Nope. East is having much too much fun with the surprise, I think I can give her this one.” Hendricks grinned at him, barely containing their squee of delight.

“Y’all are gonna look  _ so _ good, sir, remind Sam that we need pictures  _ all _ night.”

“But, like,” Fuller paused, picking her words carefully, “Only if you want to. You don’t want to move too fast, y’know.”

“How’d you mean?” There was a long pause, and Randall sighed, pinching his nose to hide the smile that tried to break free. “Fuller, Me and East are not going to get together.”

“Yes, sir.”

“This is a favor she is doing me so my ex doesn’t do something uncomfortable at her wedding.”

“Yes, sir.”

“She is here for company. This isn’t a romance novel.  _ We are not going to get together. _ Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir. I’m just saying, sir.”

“Sure you are.” There was movement on the terrace, and Randall looked over to see Sam had removed herself from the pool, looking out towards the mountains in the distance as she shook her hair out of it’s bun, curls trailing halfway down her back. He raised an eyebrow at her as she glanced back, straightening as he recognized her evil grin. “What’re you doing?”

“Oh, nothing. Going to go swimming in the ocean.”

“It’s getting dark.”

“I’m aware.” She stretched, showing off the line of fingerprint shaped bruises along her rib cage, and he set his jaw.

“That’s probably not the best idea.”

“Come stop me then.” She winked, backing up a few steps before disappearing into the darkening water with a splash. 

“Sir?”

“East is going to be the death of me. Night, all.” He closed the laptop to a chorus of complaints and finally allowed the grin to escape.

He had a fae to catch, after all.

-

Justin Brent was getting married tomorrow, and he was nervous. Not that Gabi wasn’t everything he ever wanted, but sometimes it felt like it wasn’t really reciprocated. 

And, if he was being completely honest, the rant she’d gone on when her ex had shown up with his new girlfriend? Wasn’t really all that reassuring.

He’d been walking the docks between all the bungalows, deserted now that the sun was down and everyone was either out or already asleep, thinking. It wasn’t like any revelations would mean anything, but the walk at least gave him some space from Gabi’s last mini meltdowns over the tiniest stupidest things.

“Hey, hotstuff.”

He jumped, whirling around to see a woman sitting on the end of the dock where she definitely hadn’t been a moment before.

“ _ Jesuswhatthefuck- _ ”

“Oh, sorry, you weren’t who I thought you were. You’re built almost exactly like my fiance and I don’t have my glasses on. Hi.”

“Hi.” It took him a moment for his brain to restart, but the second he did he went bright pink, looking anywhere but the woman. “You’re naked.”

“Yep.” She sounded more amused than anything. “Welcome to a not at all exclusive club. My name’s Sam.”

“Justin.”

“Hi, Justin. If you see someone who looks a whole lot like you named Randall, tell him he missed me?”

“I- sure?”

“Thanks.” There was a splash, and the woman was gone, leaving Justin alone and kind of confused. 

About 5 minutes later, Justin ran into a man who, now that he was looking for it, was built a lot like him, which wasn’t particularly common. The other man was more muscular, and had a couple inches on him, but he could see the resemblance.

“Hey, uh. This is going to sound weird, but...are you Randall?” The other man paused for a moment before he relaxed, huffing out a laugh.

“Yeah, I am. I’m assuming Sam said hi?”

“Um. Yeah. I’m Justin.” He held out his hand and Randall shook it, leaving Justin slightly surprised at how uncrushed it left his fingers.

“Brent? We’re here for your wedding tomorrow.”

“Oh! Cool! Glad you could make it out!”

“We’re happy to be here! Both of us needed the vacation, and you chose a real gorgeous spot.”

“Oh, that’s all Gabi, she had this dream wedding all planned out, and anything to see her happy, y’know?”

“Yeah, I’m the same way with Sam, she’s just...” Randall sighed happily, and something in Justin’s chest twinged. “I like her a lot.”

“This is painfully adorable.” The two men looked over, and the woman, Sam, was leaning on the edge of the pier, pushing her hair behind her ear and seemingly completely unbothered by her nakedness. Justin blushed again, looking at Randall, who in turn looked amused behind his own blush.

“I don’t believe I asked you, kitten.”

“Sure you didn’t, puppy. You still can’t catch me.” Randall walked over to the edge of the pier, crouching down to be level with Sam.

There was something about the way she looked at him that made Justin slightly uncomfortable. It was probably just the way the light was hitting her eyes, but she almost looked at him like- like a villain out of a movie, possessive and almost...hungry. 

“Wouldn’t want to catch you anyway.”

“No?”

“No.” She reached up and ran a hand over his cheek as he answered, and he leaned into it, shifting to the side enough for Justin to see the dark purple bruises going up her ribcage, his eyes widening as Randall’s hand fit over it perfectly. “No, I’m more looking to get caught.”

The woman’s answering smile was sharp as her hand came up over the back of his neck, and Justin started moving forward (to pull Randall back? Who fucking knows) only stop as her eyes snapped over to his as she leaned into Randall’s ear.

“Right answer.” She winked up at Justin and fell backwards, dragging Randall off the pier with her and into the ocean with a splash.

He didn’t know how long it took him to move again, but he did, moving to the edge of the pier and looking over to see empty water. 

The pair had disappeared without a trace.

Justin leaned back onto his heels and considered. Any misgivings he might have had about Randall Brute being invited to his wedding as his fiancee’s ex (Because he wasn’t dumb, he’d been listening to Gabi rant about him enough to recognize him) were gone, and whatever issues he and Gabi had, they would ultimately work them out.

Because ultimately, whoever - or  _ whatever _ \- Randall had gotten himself entangled with? She was  _ much _ scarier.

~

Sam let Randall get his bearings after shoving him against the pier support, smirking as he fought to catch his breath, only partially from being pulled under water. She pressed up against him as his breath caught, his eyes tracking her movements.

“H-hi.”

“Hello, puppy.” She let her voice drop into a purr and felt him shudder between her and the wooden support, her grin widening in response. “Aren’t you just  _ gorgeous _ .” He whimpered, his head hitting the pier with a  _ thunk _ as his breathing started to speed up again, his fingers lacing together behind the pole. “And so  _ good _ for me, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He closed his eyes with another whimper as her fingers trailed down his chest and under the water, tracing along the waistband of his now soaked sweatpants. She nipped lightly along his jawline, licking her lips at the taste of the salt. 

“What should I do with you,” She murmured, smirking against his ear as his hips rolled, “Now that I’ve caught you, hmm?”

“W-whatever you want, ma’am.” His eyes were slightly glazed as he stared up at the bottom of the pier, his voice catching as she kissed along his pulse point. “I’m here for yo _ ah- _ your pleasure.”

Sam opened her mouth to reply, but paused as footsteps echoed across the boards above them. She tilted his chin up and gently placed a thumb over his lips before rolling her hips against his, grinning as his eyes squeezed shut with a shudder.

“Gabi, calm down-”

“I will  _ not _ calm down! This is supposed to be my perfect day! And she’s ruining it! His attention is supposed to be on  _ me _ , and it’s not! It hasn’t been! All my planning is going to be  _ ruined _ !” Sam braced her free hand against the pier support behind Randall’s head, grinding down against him as she murmured in his ear, making sure he was  _ plenty _ distracted.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” Her purr was just loud enough for him to hear, and his lips fell open against her hand. “I think we take this back to the room so I can take care of you  _ properly _ , hmm?” 

Randall nodded almost frantically, letting Sam pull him along after her to the dock at the back of their bungalow and away from the screeching bride to be. She watched him safely onto dry land, directing him into the shower before pinning him against the wall with permission to be as loud as he wanted.

Is that how Miss Dulacey wants to play, it, then. 

Sam could work with that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW. It is mostly safe until they get home from the wedding, and after that you read at your own risk. Reader discretion is advised.

Randall, looking at himself in the mirror, could admit that he looked good. The black suit, the dark grey shirt, and the royal purple tie went together really well, bringing out the grey streak in his hair in a way he knew had to be a deliberate choice on Sam’s part.

There was movement behind him, and he turned to ask Sam her opinion when his mouth went dry, his breath catching in his throat.

Her dress was the same dark purple silk of his tie, flowing over her curves as she walked in from the bedroom. Her curls were gathered in an updo, a single stray strand dragging his eyes down to her neck. She was smirking as she watched him take her in, makeup simple eyeliner and something shimmery on her cheekbones, leaning against the door frame as she pulled on black heels. A long slit trailed up the side of the skirt to her thigh, her hips swinging more than strictly necessary as she walked up to him, turning slowly and watching him over her shoulder.

The dress was unzipped. 

Sam was one of the most dexterous people Randall knew, an impressive feat given she rarely, if ever, went into the field. Zipping up her own dresses was not a problem she had.

That meant, of course, that she was having him zip her up for the sole purpose of informing him that the dress did cling _exactly_ as much as it looked like it did, and there wasn’t anything underneath it.

Randall swallowed, carefully zipping the dress up and letting a hand rest on her hip. She smiled, leaning back against him, all warmth and slippery fabric.

“Like it?”

Randall swallowed again, biting his lip as he took a deep breath, very _very_ aware of his hands on her hips and her back against his chest.

“You could say that, yeah.” He looked down at her, appreciating the closed distance between them as she turned in his arms- at 6’7, it was rare to find anyone close to his height. The fact that Sam was 6’5 in heels was- good. Great. _Really hot_. “I’m not-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, though the corners of his mouth pulled themselves up involuntarily as she grinned at his response. “I’m not sure how I’m going to survive today, though.”

“Oh, you don’t?” And he was getting shoved against the wall, her leg between his as she pinned him there, her hand around his throat, tilting his chin up. “Well, puppy,” Her voice was a purr in his ear, and his hands tightened around her hips reflexively, his mouth dropping open slightly as she pressed against him further in response, “You’re going to watch me all day. And at the end of the day, if you’ve been very, _very_ good, you won’t have to think about anything. All you’ll have to do is _listen_. Sound good?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The words practically tumbled out of his mouth, and Randall was very aware that Sam pinning him against the wall was the only reason he wasn’t on his knees. 

A part of him regretted that.

~

They made it to the wedding hall with minimal fuss, even if Randall had needed a moment to collect himself before they left the room. The hall was covered in local flowers, and Sam pulled him to a stop in front of a giant mirror framed in said flowers next to the entrance, leaning up to kiss him as she retrieved her phone from inside his jacket.

“Pictures?”

“Pictures.” She leaned up against him and smiled as his hand came to rest possessively on her hip, taking the picture and sending it off. “It looks very 007. I approve.”

“Somehow, I thought you might. We look good together, anyway.” She glanced up at him as he grinned down at her, still holding her pressed to his side.

“Oh, do we, Mr Brute?”

“Yes, Mrs Brute.” She felt her cheeks go pink, and his smile widened. “Yes, we do.”

They eventually meandered to the ushers, who checked their invitation and sat them. Sam settled into Randall’s side, humming her amusement at the Foldling’s answering texts cooing over them.

She blamed it on the fact that she was on vacation that it took her a whole 3 minutes to realize something was...off. She looked around the room and spotted Aileen on the opposite side of the church. The older woman made eye contact, and her sour expression immediately made Sam straighten in her seat. Aileen nodded and turned back toward the front of the church.

“Babe? What is it?” Sam turned, already smiling as she leaned up to kiss Randall. 

“Nothing, babe. Brain went into work mode, it’s all good.” She curled into his side, her lovely fiance wrapping his arm around her shoulders reassuringly as he missed the women in what seemed to be bridesmaid’s dresses watching them from a door at the back of the building, all in varying stages of dismay.

Sam was _so_ glad she’d decided to do a little extra digging into Ms Dulacey’s wedding plans after she’d gotten Randall to sleep the night before. It left her free to keep him blissfully ignorant.

The processional started, and she leaned further into him as they watched the bridal party file down the aisle. 

“I love you very much,” His breath was hot in her ear as he wrapped an arm around her waist, and she grinned, “But if you tried to make the wedding colors anything like that shade of green, I think I’m breaking off the engagement.”

“I would hope so. Seafoam green doesn't look good on anyone. If I chose it, it’s a clear sign I’ve gone off the deep end and should be taken out back and shot.” He huffed out a laugh and she shivered slightly at his proximity, and she could _feel_ his smugness at that response, the _asshole_.

Justin looked happy, at the very least, watching the bridal party but obviously excited to see his soon to be bride.

And then Gabi emerged on her father’s arm.

“Isn’t that-” Randall’s laugh was a low rumble she more felt than heard, _damn him_ , “Isn’t that the dress you spent 15 minutes tearing apart on that wedding dress show?”

“Yes, it is. I’m surprised you remembered.”

“You’re gorgeous when you’re ranting. And I need to stay on top of what you like and dislike, how else am I going to know what presents will make you turn pink and jump me?” Sam felt her cheeks heat up, the traitors, and leaned back on to him, bracing a hand on his thigh, smirking at the way he froze for half a second too long as she watched Gabi reach the altar.

Gabi barely looked happy to see Justin, more happy to be the center of attention, as the officiant started droning on.

“Did they find the most boring man on the face of the planet on purpose?” Randall huffed out a laugh, and Sam grinned. “We should see what his rates are, I bet we could get him to come in for training.” She didn’t mention how slow he was talking, but she noticed it, just as much as she noticed how their seat gave them an unparalleled view of the bride.

She especially noticed how Gabi’s excitement seemed to be building when the officiant got to the bit about the objections, and not the I dos.

“If anyone objects at our wedding,” Sam blinked in surprise and turned to Randall, smile instinctively breaking out at how close they were. “I would like to formally request that I get to beat them bloody, ‘cause you like playing with your food too much and I would like our wedding delayed as little as possible.”

“But not enough to let the bridal party handle it?”

“Fuck no. They interrupted my wedding.” His hand tightened on her waist and her breath caught, her own hand tightening on his thigh. “I want to _personally_ be the reason they can never move again.”

“Mmmmm. Mmhmm. That shouldn’t be hot.”

“Probably not.” He nuzzled into the side of her face, and she huffed out a laugh, though she would neither confirm nor deny that her smile widened when she looked up to see Gabi’s dead white face staring back at her.

The rest of the ceremony went by uneventfully, the two of them nestled comfortably together as Sam appreciated how Gabi nearly glowed with rage. The newlyweds disappeared out of the hall and the guests were redirected to the reception area, a large pavilion next to the connected gardens, the air thick with the scent of blooming flowers. She didn’t even pretend she wasn’t casing the exits, but she let herself be distracted as Randall caught her with an arm around the waist and pulled her in close, kissing her.

“Hey.”

“Hi. You good?”

“I’m fine. How’re you?”

“I’m having a good time, which I have the distinct impression is happening because my backup isn’t telling me about bullet’s I’m dodging.”

“If you dodged them, they’re old news, and there isn’t any reason to bring it up, now is there?” He hummed, lacing his fingers behind her back.

“You don’t need to protect me.”

“Don’t start arguments you can’t win, puppy. You brought me with you for a _reason_ .” She leaned up and kissed him, soft and sweet. “Can’t bring you back to your babies emotionally crippled, they’ll never leave me alone with you again, and that would be _hell_ on my sex life.” Randall snorted out a laugh.

“Ah, good to know why you _really_ came with me.”

“Yep. Gotta protect my interests.”

They eventually made it to their seats, and the meal passed with similar smoothness, the first dances pleasant enough to watch. Sam leaned into Randall’s side, lacing their fingers together as they watched, and smiled sweetly as Gabi just barely kept her eyes on her husband.

A couple hours in, and Sam had spawned a small army of children, all easily wrangled compared to the Mulroy terrors, and allowed herself to think that maybe, just maybe, she could relax.

As always, she jinxed herself, and that was when Randall appeared and latched to her side, though to his credit she was pretty sure she was the only one who could see the terror in his eyes.

“Hey, baby, I haven’t seen you in a while.” She leaned up to kiss him, easily ignoring the chorus of ews from around their waists, and nuzzled into the side of his face as she watched Gabi storm off in her peripheral. Randall smiled down at her, jacket gone and shirt sleeves folded up around his elbows, though the smile was a little forced.

“Gabi said she wanted to catch up.” His voice was low enough it only got to her, and she immediately pulled him close, rubbing his back reassuringly as he leaned into her gratefully. “And she- um. Didn’t.” Sam’s jaw set, but she pulled him in for another kiss before looking down at their assembled audience.

“Everybody, this is Randall. Say hi to Randall.” There was a cacophony of hellos, and Sam let her hackles relax as the corners of her fiance’s mouth turned up into a real smile as he waved. “Randall, this is your army for when I inevitably take over the world.”

“Well, then. We should go through some training drills, shouldn’t we, soldiers.” A wave of children in formalwear saluted, and Sam watched him lead her army off into the garden, tiny bodyguards ensuring Gabi couldn’t try anything untoward while keeping Randall plenty distracted from whatever _bullshit_ that bitch had tried to pull. 

There was a nudge at her elbow, and Sam looked down to see Aileen holding out a Manhattan for her.

“She tried to corner him behind the bar.” Sam straightened, hiding her scowl in her drink. “I managed to give him an escape, but I was slightly worried I would have to provide further diversions, but I see I have nothing to worry about. That was masterfully done.”

“Thank you. Normally I make people pay out the nose for my services, but for him I make an exception.” They watched Randall scoop up a small child who launched themself at his knees, laughing. 

“He looks happier with you, you know.”

“You don’t have to flatter my ego, ma’am, I promise I don’t need it.”

“No, it’s true. Whenever Gabi used to have him around for family things, he always looked like he was just going through the motions. Oh, he was perfectly charming, said all the right things and did everything right, but he was never quite _there_ , you know?”

“I- no. I’ve never seen him like that.” 

“Really?” Aileen looked up at her with a knowing smile. “Then you might just be meant to be.”

~

Randall held the door open for Sam as they returned to the bungalow, letting the door fall closed behind him with a sigh, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

“That wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” He took a deep breath as he felt her hands on his arms pulling his hands away from his face, all sympathy.

“That’s true. But it also wasn’t as smooth as it could have been, either.” She reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, running her thumb over his cheek and smiling as he leaned into the motion. “You did really good today, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, kitten.” He knew his smile was tired. He wanted to think the best of Gabi, but today made that...hard.

“You want help unwinding?” His shoulders sagged in relief, leaning further into her hands.

“Yes, please.”

Sam leaned up and kissed him, long and slow, before leaning back. 

“Kneel.”

Randall sunk down to his knees, shifting into a comfortable position as she flipped the armchair around to face him before sinking into it. She crossed her legs as she watched him, pulling bobby pins out of her hair as she made him wait.

“What do you want, puppy?” _Clink_.

“To serve you, ma’am.” _Clink_.

“How?” _Clink_.

“However you require, ma’am.” 

“No.” _Clink._ “No, I’m going to need an actual answer, puppy.” She shook her hair out, curls falling over her shoulders as she watched him, contemplative. “I _require_ that you tell me exactly what you want done to you. Or what you want to do to me.”

Randall wasn’t good at wanting things. He never was. Being in the system didn’t lend itself to wanting, no one really ever cared, so he just...didn’t. He didn’t want things, because it’d be a waste of time.

Except for the redhead who was patiently watching him from the chair.

He’d always wanted Sam, ever since they were awkward teenagers and she was the only one with the balls to call Mulroy out on his angsty emo bullshit. No amount of knowing that he’d never have a chance and that he didn’t really know her had ever changed that fact. There were twenty odd years of _wanting_ and then Serbia happened and...well. He got what he wanted. 

She always was the exception to his rules. The first person to ever, purposefully and meaningfully, give him things because he wanted, not needed, them.

“I want...” The words felt strange in his mouth, so he licked his lips and tried again. “I want you to erase Gabi from me. I want you to write over everywhere she ever touched as yours. I want you to promise I’ll be yours, that no matter how bad I fuck up you’ll love me anyway.” The words started coming faster, as things he’d pushed down deep were finally allowed to spill out. “I want to know I’m worth you, and that you care about me, actually me, not just me as an object to take places and show off.” He took a deep breath and looked up, meeting her gaze. “I want to be yours. I want to be claimed.”

Sam cocked her head at him, her smile warm and reassuring, and uncrossed her legs. 

“Cmere.”

He shuffled forward into arms reach and into her arms, clenching his hands into fists on the arms of the chair as she kissed him, hard and slow, her fingers lacing through his hair as she gently nudged his head down. He took the instruction smoothly, kissing down her neck, humming as Sam leaned back to give him better access to her chest and torso. He made his way down her body, nuzzling into the dip in her hip and only barely registering the way the chair creaked under his hands as she whimpered in response. Her hand tightened in his hair and she moved down, nuzzling against her exposed thigh before looking up for permission.

Sam huffed out a dramatic sigh, the effect diminished by her breathless grin.

“Go on, then.”

He bit down gently, working the skin there as she moaned above him, the wood creaking ominously somewhere far away as he worked. He kissed it gently before looking up at her, the color high on her cheeks as she bit her lip.

“Bedroom. Wait for me next to the bed; I want to unwrap my present after I make sure housekeeping won’t be interrupting us in the morning.” 

Randall got up, his smile near blinding as he felt her watch him leave the room. His kitten always knew exactly what he needed. He was going to be just fine.

~

Sam watched him go and leaned back in her chair as she let out a long breath, grinning at the ceiling before looking down at the red mark on her inner thigh. That was going to bruise; she was going to have to watch out for it in any pictures for the Foldlings. 

She got up and stretched, humming quietly as she moved towards the front door, heels clicking across the floor.

Gabrielle never saw her coming. Sam had the closet door open before the other women could move, pinning the newlywed to the back wall with a hand over her mouth.

“Now, Mrs Brent, today is your lucky day.” Her voice was a low snarl, and quite a bit of her was viciously happy at the terror in the other woman’s eyes. “It’s your lucky day because, even though I know exactly how badly you hurt my puppy, I don’t have anywhere to conveniently stow you until I can dispose of your body. Your husband seems like a nice enough guy, too, and I’d hate to widow him so soon. So I’m going to deposit you on my doorstep and you’re going to go back to him. You’re going to have a lovely wedding night that’s going to lead into a lovely honeymoon. And if I _ever_ find out you tried to contact Randall Brute _ever again_ , I will send your husband a nice thick collection of screenshots, from both your secret instagram account and the group messages with your bridal party where you admit that you had him pay for a wedding you were going to try to force Randall to marry you at, instead.” Gabrielle’s eyes went wide, and Sam’s smile went vicious. “So you are going to _quietly_ leave and I won’t have any reason to burn your life down around you before killing you slowly and very, _very_ painfully. Do I make myself clear?” There was a frantic, aborted nod under her hand. “Good girl.”

Sam was good to her word, leaving Gabi in front of the door before hanging the Do Not Disturb sign and locking the door, taking a moment to gather herself before she went back to find Randall.

She circled him, the only sound in the room the click of her heels, and stopped in front of him. Her fingers caught in his tie and she tugged him down just short of her, and blue eyes met brown ones as she undid the strip of fabric and pulled it loose from his neck, backing away as she maintained eye contact. He swayed after her, catching himself at the last minute.

“Jacket off. Over the chair, I think.” He followed her orders, slowly and carefully. “Shirt, too.” She played with his tie, running it through her fingers as he stripped, circling him slowly.

She stopped in front of him again and looped the tie around his neck idly before reaching down and lacing her fingers through his belt, undoing the clasp and pulling it off of him in one smooth motion before dropping it to the floor. Sam kicked it as she started circling again, sending the strip of leather skidding across the floor.

“Everything else can go too, I think. Leave the tie. And your boxers.” She hummed quietly, concentrating on the click of her heels until he stopped moving again, leaving her to reach up and trace her nails along his skin as she came to a stop behind him, smirking at his shiver.

She pressed herself along his back as she leaned her chin on his shoulder, pulling the tie off from around his neck and tying the ends together. She twisted the circle into a loop, holding it up for him to see.

“We’re going to see how patient you can be, puppy. I want to see how long it takes me to tease you into _taking_ what you want.” She nuzzled into the side of his neck, biting into the muscle there lightly, smirking at his answering whimper. “What’d you think, baby? Interested?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” His voice was shaky, and he shivered when she leaned in his ear, kissing the skin just under it.

“Good.” She brought the loop over his head and caught his wrists in it, squeezing his hands in hers before moving over to the bed, kicking her heels off and out of the way before sitting on the edge of it. “C’mere.”

He moved in front of her, breath catching as she hooked her fingers into his waistband and tugged him closer. She smirked up at him as she nuzzled up against him through the fabric grinning as his head fell back with a groan and the muscles in his arms tensed. She patiently mouthed along the length of him, humming her amusement at the shudders that rocked through him with every touch.

“Fffffff-” He caught himself before it was even really a word, but she leaned back anyway, amused enough to watch him tense all his muscles in an attempt to bring himself back under control.

“What was that?”

“Nnnothing, ma’am.”

“You sure? Nothing you wanted to share with the class?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Down.” He sunk to his knees between her legs and she leaned back onto her hand, considering him before shifting her dress to the side. His eyes snapped to the movement immediately, and she smirked. “Was there something you wanted, puppy?”

“Can I?” His eyes followed her hand as she dragged her nails up the inside of her thigh, licking his lips the higher she went. “Please?”

“You want to?” She laced her fingers through his hair, and he leaned into it, letting her lean his head against her thigh. “Is that what you want, puppy?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mmmm. No.” She shifted the dress out of the way, breathing out a moan as her fingers moved in a tight circle and her eyes fluttered shut. She could feel him straining against her grip, and she huffed out a laugh, breathless as it turned into a whimper. Her hips rolled as her breathing hitched, moaning loudly as the movement in her fingers stuttered and her grip on his hair tightened, getting a whimper from him as well.

She looked down at him, and he looked vaguely tortured, looking from her hand to her face and back down again as he licked his lips.

“You could just take it, puppy- ah-” She bit her lip as her hips ground down into the bed and he pulled harder against her grip, but not out of it. “You could have it, if you wanted.”

“I _can’t_ -” Poor puppy. He sounded so desperate.

Too bad he was the nice one.

“Oh, well.” Her hand moved faster and she gasped, the corner of her mouth turning up at his whine as he leaned against her thigh, his breathing nearly as uneven as hers. She could feel herself getting close, could hear it in the whimpers that had replaced her breathing, and knew he could feel it, too, as he tensed, leaning into her hand as she got closer.

And then she stopped.

Edge play by proxy was a new one for her but, she mused as she leaned back on her hand, concentrating on her breathing as she watched Randall’s righteous indignation on her behalf, it seemed to be rather effective.

-

It took a lot to shake Randall Brute’s self control.

He was practically famous for it. He was unshakeable, legendarily hard to catch off guard, and if he’d decided on a course of action, there was not a thing anyone could do to move him from that path.

Except, of course, Sam.

There was a part of him where he stored all of his anger, that he generally only let out on jobs, when he was vastly outnumbered and thinking things out calmly wouldn’t help. He didn’t generally tap into it outside of combat situations.

But his eyes flicked up to the scar on Sam’s shoulder, a perfect impression of his teeth from the _last_ time he’d let it loose out of combat, and slipped the loop of his tie off one of his wrists.

From the squeak of surprise, she hadn’t noticed he’d done it, and his arms coming up under her thighs and tossing her further up the bed had come as a shock, but he had an objective and there really wasn’t any room in his mind for anything except him and his goal. His girl.

 _His_.

There was fabric in the way, slippery and purple, and it was gone, the sound of tearing very far away. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, as much as an anchor as a way to control, and buried his face between her legs.

“ _Fuck_ , puppy-” His tongue moved fast against her as his fingers dug into her hips, holding on and moving with her as they rolled. He just barely registered fingers lacing into his hair and growled against her in response, fingers tightening with appreciation as her body shuddered underneath him. 

His eyes trailed up her body as her back arched off the bed, glazed blue eyes meeting his as she whimpered and moaned above him, the hand not buried in his hair clenched in the sheets like a lifeline. The eye contact seemed to break something in Sam, her breath catching in her throat as she shuddered, her thighs closing against his hands before falling limp on the bed, trying to catch her breath.

That wouldn’t do.

He straightened, moving between her legs and dragging her flush with him, biting out a groan as she rolled her hips against him with a whimper. He caught her by the back of her neck, squeezing as he leaned down over her.

“I haven’t gotten what I _want_ , kitten.” His voice was a rough growl and her eyes went dark in response, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

“Then _take it_ , puppy.” 

He hooked an arm under her waist and pulled her up against him, barely noticing the nails digging into his shoulders as he slid into her with a groan, his grip on the back of her neck tightening as he buried his face into her chest.

He did notice when her hips started moving, though, his fingers digging into her side as Sam started making some _very_ distracting noises. 

A voice in his head told him he should make her make more of those.

He pulled her down onto him as he rolled his hips up into her, growling his approval as she gasped and moaned somewhere above him. Hands carded up into his hair, attempting to move him from the hickey he was biting into her chest, and then they and her were pinned to the bed under him as he drove his hips down into her, eliciting a whole new and exciting range of noises from her. 

Randall could tell he wasn’t going to last long and shifted up to look down at Sam beneath him, fucked out and gorgeous as she gasped his name over and over. He leaned down, closing the space between them, maintaining eye contact as he did.

“ _Cum for me_ .” His voice was a deep rumble and she shuddered hard as she did as she was told. He followed soon after, curling around her protectively, wanting for all the world to protect what was _his_ from the world.

It took him a bit to register sound and movement again, but it was to the sound of Sam quietly singing La Vie En Rose and petting his hair, so it could have been much worse. He rolled off her to the side, pulling her in close after she hit the bedside lamp and burying his face in her hair.

“Mmmphai love you, ki’in.” There was a quiet huff of laughter and he hummed happily as she kissed his collarbone.

“Love you too, puppy.”


	5. Chapter 5

Randall woke up first, which didn’t happen a lot. To be honest, it was extremely rare he didn’t wake up to Sam already awake, generally because she was trying to bury her face into his chest after she’d checked her email.

Sam was splayed across the bed next to him, face down in a pillow and snoring quietly. It was adorable, and he carefully pulled her hair out of her face, his smile turning into a full grin as he uncovered it.

It was about this point he noticed the dark purple bruises scattered across her neck. He ran his fingers over them gently as details from the night before slowly filtered back in, and he huffed out a laugh. That shouldn’t have gone as well as it did, but he had long before given up on questioning how Sam pulled it off, how she just  _ knew _ he wouldn’t go too far, and let himself feel warm and fuzzy in the knowledge that she trusted him.

His fingers traced down her back and to the band of black and blue across her waist, lining up his hand with the clear handprint he’d left behind, and she made a happy noise in her sleep, wiggling back against him and snuggling in with a sigh, and  _ fuck _ was he gone for her.

There had been a point, when Sam had first been given- well. When Sam had been assigned lead of Alpha 1 to secure Mulroy’s retirement, it had finally, well and truly, hit Randall that Sam hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d explained that UNIT owned her and didn’t plan on letting her free. He’d felt like kind of an asshole, when she’d dissolved into tears on her couch and he’d read the email from Margot, that her taking over the team for “the remainder of her natural tenure at the company” was the main negotiating point for the Board to agree to let Mulroy retire, that it had been near unanimously agreed upon. He’d scooped her up in his arms and held her close, and the next day, when he knew she was busy accepting her promotion, he’d gone and convinced Mitchell to let him see East’s file.

There was no point before that, and yet to be a point after, that he felt more like an asshole. Some part of him had convinced himself she’d been exaggerating, because she had to be- no one lived through all the horrific shit Sam described UNIT doing to her and came out as- as good, as  _ perfect _ as Sam had. But there it was, in black and white, page after page after page of documentation signed by members of the board detailing every awful thing they’d done to her and forced her to do, using Mulroy as leverage every time.

It was that moment that killed the angry, passive aggressive voice in the back of his head that had told him she’d been blowing him off, keeping him secret from their coworkers because she was embarrassed, had asked him to marry her to keep him hooked. In that moment, that voice disappeared for good as he read account after account of Sam trying to stand by her morals and the Board threatening Mulroy if she didn’t comply.

He’d watched her at the retirement party, for all the world as happy as Cecelia and the kids- well, the kids who were there- and had been her excuse to go home. He’d helped her pack her bags and spirited them away to the cabin, where they were just a cute American couple with fairly normal problems.

And he, Randall Brute, who was legendary for being willing to do anything for the company that saved him, asked her to run away with him. 

If he hadn’t known before that he’d do  _ anything _ for her, he’d known when the words left his mouth, and he meant it.

He traced his fingers lightly down her side to her hip, tilting them back against his as he leaned down on her side to inspect the purple bruising on her inner thighs, recognizing his fingerprints there, too. He reached down to trace them, too, smiling against her ribcage as more memories returned.

Randall hadn’t registered the purr when it started, but he definitely noticed it when fingers carded into his hair and tugged lightly. He turned, looking up to see Sam smiling sleepily down at him.

“Morning, handsome.”

“Morning, beautiful. Just admiring the claims that got left.” She stretched, rolling onto her back under him as she worked her fingers deeper into his hair.

“Mmmmm? Pretty, are they?”

“The canvas is, at least.” Her cheeks went pink and he grinned, letting his fingers trace up and down her thighs.

“Rude, puppy.” She huffed out a sigh, tugging gently at his hair and raising an eyebrow as he refused to move from his spot at her stomach. “You’re being awfully distracting this morning.”

“Returning the favor for yesterday. Or, at least, starting to.” His fingers trailed slightly further up her thighs, and he felt the corners of his mouth turn further up at the intake of breath it got from her. “You’ve been taking care of me. Today, I take care of you.”

“Puppy, you don’t gotta do that. I like taking care of you.” She pushed back a strand of hair out of his face, and he leaned into it. “You don’t have to repay me for supporting my fiance and making sure your crazy ex didn’t do something _ literally _ insane.”

“I am aware I don’t  _ have _ to, Samael.” Her name came out in a half growl, and he was aware that the expression on his face could possibly be described as a smirk when she shivered under him. “But I’m  _ going _ to.”

“ _ Well _ then, far be it from me to try and convince you otherwise. Do go on.”

He moved up the bed over her, nuzzling into the side of her face as he fit his fingers where he knew his fingerprints were the darkest purple on her side.

“Good  _ girl _ .” He reached his free hand down between her legs, pressing small circles. “You’re so good for me, baby.”

She whimpered, her hips rolled up against his hand as her eyes glazed over, and  _ fuck _ that shouldn’t be so hot. The whimper turned into a long whine as he slipped two fingers into her, and he had to bury his face in her neck, his own breathing starting to speed up in time with her moans as she laced her fingers into his hair.

“ _ Randall- _ ” He could never get sick of hearing her say his name, especially if she was going to say it like  _ that _ , and he curled his fingers rhythmically into her, nuzzling up to growl in her ear and she shuddered hard in response, pressing up into him as her body tensed and she came. He smirked against her cheek as he pressed in with a third finger, moving faster and harder as she gasped. “Baby- fuck  _ me _ -”

"No, I don't think I will." He slowed, leaning up on his free hand to make sure his answering rumble was directly in her ear. "Not yet, at least. That good, baby?"

The noise she made in response went  _ straight _ to his dick, and he focused on the way her nails dragging across his shoulders instead, used to using pain to keep himself centered as he coaxed her through another few orgasms, losing track of numbers as he fought to stay focused against how pretty she begged.

With that context, he felt like it could be excused that he didn’t see it coming when he was suddenly pinned against the bed, Sam shoving his shoulders down against the mattress as she slid down onto him with a whine, and Randall had to squeeze his eyes shut in a gasp against the feeling.

“Good puppy.” Her voice was a deep purr in his ear, and he didn’t bother trying to suppress the shudder, letting his hands fall to their natural place on her hips. His fingers flexed into her skin as he focused on not moving, the voice in his head that tried to warn him she was going to end up with more bruises much too far away for him to focus on. Her hand came up around his throat and he whimpered, though he lost track of the noises he was making as her hips started rolling and he had to concentrate on not coming in 5 seconds like a fucking teenager.

He had some issues keeping track of what happened after that, until there was a grown in his ear as Sam tensed around him and he whined as he  _ finally _ came, fingers digging into her hips.

“Every-  _ woooo _ \- every goddamn time.”

“Uh-huh.” He let go, flexing the tension out of his fingers as she rolled off of him and curled into his side. “We should take showers.” She shuddered, and he bit his lip around a smile.

“ _ Puppy, _ can you please refrain from making want to jump you less than 5 seconds after sex? I would really appreciate it.”

“ _ Seperate _ showers, then.” She pouted, and he could feel his grin widen as he booped her nose. 

“Ugh,  _ fine _ . Ruin my fun, see if I care.”

-

Sam exited the shower a good, long while later to find a purple sundress laying out on the bed for her. She reached down, feeling the soft fabric between her fingers, and looked over to the deck looking out at the mountain and the large man Not Paying Attention there.

She got dressed, taking a moment to appreciate the way the fabric hugged her curves as she finished buttoning up the front, before making her way out to her fiance and ruffled his hair. He lit up like a kid on Christmas the second he saw her and she grinned back, twirling in place for him as her heart did that stupid fluttering thing.

“D’you like it?”

“I love it, puppy, thank you. What’s it for?”

“Oh, y’know. Existence appreciation present.” He caught her hand and tugged her down onto his lap, and she settled in with a purr.

“I’m happy to exist for you to appreciate. What’s the plan for today?”

“Lunch, wander around for a bit, and then a surprise.”

“A surprise? What kinda surprise?”

“Well, Kitten, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it.” Sam pouted but cuddled in against him anyway, her feet swinging lazily off the side of the chair.

“You’re being too nice to me.”

“I am being the exact amount of nice you deserve.”

“I dunno, you kinda spoil me rotten.”

“My point stands.” She huffed out a laugh and curled further into his chest.

“When’s food?”

“Reservation is at 1.”

“Perfect.”

And it was perfect, even if Sam noticed Randall tense slightly halfway through the meal, and she made a point to smile sweetly at the Brents as they left.

Gabi turned white. Sam was very happy with that.

They wandered until the sun started going down, and suddenly Randall seemed like he had somewhere to go.

“So, what is this surprise, anyway?”

“It would defeat the point of the surprise if I told you, kitten.”

“But  _ puppyyyy _ , I wanna  _ know _ .”

“And you will.” He leaned down and kissed her temple, and her pout disappeared into a grin. “When we get there.”

The _ there _ in question wasn’t the dock, and a small boat piloted by a young British man who waved them on. She snuggled against Randall as they settled in, humming her approval as his arm wrapped around her waist possessively.

Maybe 20 minutes later, the sun just barely lighting the area, they were on a small circle of land that could barely be described as an island with a few lit tiki torches scattered around. The pilot handed Randall a transceiver and instructions on how to use it to signal him for a pick up before they were left on the beach’s small dock as the boat sped off. Sam let herself be tugged gently along, their hands swinging between them.

“Is this how you get rid of me?”

“Too many people saw you come here with me, and besides, I need you to fend Gabi off till we leave at the very least.”

Oh,  _ well _ then.” She huffed out a laugh and nudged up against him. “What  _ are _ we here for then, puppy?”

“Stargazing.” She could tell she lit up when he grinned. “Usually they have someone to point out the constellations, but I was pretty sure you had us covered.”

“Probably.” She leaned up and kissed him before she turned in his arms and settled back against him as she looked up at the stars, grinning.

“So I take it you approve, then.”

“Yeah, puppy, I approve. You took me out on a boat ride to a tiny island covered in flowers to fucking star gaze, how am I supposed to disapprove?” She leaned against his arm, humming as she scanned the sky. “There’s Mars, and Venus, and Orion!”

“Yeah, I kinda thought it’d be important for him to be here for this.” She felt him tug backwards, and she turned with him, distracted.

“Be here for wha-”

Randall Brute was kneeling in the sand with a ring box, looking adorable and disheveled and nervous. Sam felt her eyes go wide and her free hand go to her mouth, and let him tug her closer as her brain shut down completely.

“Samael-”

“I hate you.” Her voice was muffled and squeaky from behind her hand as she concentrated on not crying. “I hate you, I hate you so fucking much-”

“You’re a horrible liar when you’re emotional.” He grinned up at her, his eyes far from dry themselves.

“I thought we already did this.”

“You did this. It’s my turn.”

“Puppy-”

“Samael.” She met his gaze and shut up, and he kissed her hand. “You are gorgeous, you’re the smartest person I know, and have been my dream girl for a truly impressive length of time. I love you, more than I thought I ever really could for anyone.” He huffed in a breath, shaky, and she squeezed his hand, smiling damply down at him as he squeezed back. “And I know that we’ve been doing this for a while, and we might have to keep doing this for who knows how long, so I just thought I might reaffirm my stance on all this.” There was a click that was probably a ring box, but Sam couldn’t tear her eyes away from Randall. “Samael Mulroy, will you marry me?”

She fell to her knees in front of him, giving up on trying to stop the tears as she caught him by the collar and pulled him in, kissing him like her life depended on it. He pulled her close and rested her forehead against hers as they came up for air.

“Is that a yes?” She huffed out a laugh.

“Baby, there isn’t a way to express how  _ yes _ my answer is. That being said,” She wiggled her eyebrows, “I would be willing to take you back to the room and find out how close i can get.”

“You know, somehow that wasn’t the response I was expecting, and I’m not sure how.” He kissed her nose gently. “You should probably at least look at the ring.”

“This would require me to stop looking at you, right?” He huffed out a laugh, and she grinned, reaching up to catch his face in her hands. “Cause then maybe later, cause this is a pretty great view.”

“It’s a poison ring.” She could tell she lit up like a Christmas tree by the way his grin grew watching her, and she took the ring out of the box he held up for her.

“ _ Puppy _ .” She inspected it, clicking open the compartment and grinning. “Puppy, this is  _ perfect _ .”

“Not quite.” He took it from her gently, and she pouted before he caught her left hand and slid it on her ring finger, and she could  _ feel _ the blush growing in response. “ _ Now _ it’s perfect.”


End file.
